


No need to Know

by Onemoreobsessedfangirl



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Rin is a dork, Yukio actually cares/ season one ish/ Yukio is human/
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-15 22:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onemoreobsessedfangirl/pseuds/Onemoreobsessedfangirl
Summary: When Yukio finds a drawing signed I"USAMARO" in clumsy Kanji, he questions Rin about it. Sadness and stubbornness ensue. This has a bad ending.





	No need to Know

No need to Know

 

 

 

 

"Who is Usamaro, Rin?"

 

 

"What!?"

I jumped out of my bed, dropping the manga I had stolen from my brother's matress, alarmed, because Yukio shouldn't know that name, let alone speak it. 

"What's what, Nii San? I asked you a question."

I only noticed the paper he was holding when he flipped it around, and lowered it closer to me so that I could see what was on it.

The picture crinkled crispily when he moved it, a sign of its age.

It was a drawing Usamaro had done of me, right before the festival that got him killed. Well, sealed away, but it's basically the same. I'll still never see him again. My brow furrowed. This should've been in my keepsake box, how did Yukio get it?

I looked at my clumsily drawn arms and legs, and my overly spiky hair that he had drawn as electric blue. My badly colored red shirt, and twiggy tail.  
He did a really good job, all things considered.

Usamaro's name was printed in barely legible kanji along the top, the green crayon of his name overlapping the little sun he drew. I remembered teaching him how to spell his name, it was the only thing he could write. 

I wanted to cry. Looking at it brought back the grief that I had been trying to forget, the grief that Yukio shouldn't see because he wouldn't understand. 

My eyes were moist and I struggled to hide it before I cried. I was over this, he was gone, and I'd never see him again. Yukio doesn't have to see my grief, that would only bring questions.

"What is this picture, Rin? Who is this Usamaro that drew it?" 

My mole-faced brother looked slightly concerned now, while he was only curious at first. He stepped twords me.

"Why are you crying, Nii-San?   
Who drew this?"

Ugh. Questions.

I wiped the offending tears off of my cheeks, and grabbed the picture from him, carefully placing it in the box it had been in, the box where I keep memories of long gone people. 

I placed it right next to my photo of Father Fujimoto, Yukio and I, and the ill-drawn picture I'd done of mom in fourth grade. Father Fujimoto had said it looked nothing like her, but I had tried, so that was that.

Yukio was hovering now, towering over me with his stupid hight. How dare he be taller, I'm the older twin!

"It's nothing, Four-eyes. You don't know him and you never will." 

Yukio sent a sharp look my way for the name, and then snatched the drawing from my box, quicker than a snake, holding it high so that I couldn't get it.

"HEY! GIVE THAT BACK, FOUR-EYES!"

I wasn't all that shorter than him, but when our arms are outstretched, his are at least six inches longer than mine. Not the mention that he's already a head taller than me. It was so very frustrating when he held things from me like this when I *wasn't* already sort of upset. 

This always felt like something you'd do to tease a younger sister! NOT your older brother! Damn Four-eyed mole face!

"No. I won't give it back until you tell me who drew this that is making you upset. Why don't I know who it is, Rin? I literally almost never leave you alone. When was this drawn in the first place?"

I growled a little, too proud to leap for it but still to short to reach just by stepping. Glaring at him, I feinted giving up, and went to sit on my bed. As soon as he started to lower the precious paper, I darted forward and snatched it from him. 

It was my turn to receive a glare, now.

"Seriously, Nii-San. Who drew that? It must've been a child, unless you tried your luck at drawing."

The corners of his mouth twitched up a little, and I sighed.   
I suppose it couldn't hurt to lie, a little. Just a little white lie to protect my sanity in my brother's eyes...

"Do you remember Hina? From junior high? Black hair, short, small breasts..."

His eyebrow twitched. 

"Rin, you just described two thirds of all the girls in the entire school. Be more specific. Also, I don't think you should hang out with Shima anymore, he's a horrible influence on you."

Uh, I'm trying to be vague, four-eyes.  
I'm making her up. 

"Shima is perverted, the world knows that, but I can't not hang out with him, Yukio, he sits behind me in cram school." 

I rolled my eyes at his comment about Shima, and made an exasperated face at him, like I couldn't possibly believe he didn't know exactly who I was talking about. Jeeze, I felt so phoney. I'm bad at lying.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter if you don't remember the girl who was crushing on you every day I was at school. It was so obvious."

His eyebrow twitched once again.

"That's still the majority of the girls in the school, Nii-San. Just go on with your explanation. I'm actually going to be late, if you don't hurry."

I looked at the clock. Four pm. I suppose he does have a smart guy thing on Tuesdays at four thirty, maybe it's four fifteen... Tutoring the people who cared about grades for normal school, or something...

Oh. This was perfect. 

"Ok. Well, she had this little brother that I would visit when I skipped. We met in the park sometimes. He liked trains."

"Liked?"

I sighed a real sigh this time, trying to pull all my grief over Usamaro into my eyes, to convince Yukio that this brother of a made up girl was real. 

"He died. Car crash. Hina's still alive, but her mom's messed up. Her dad takes care of them now. They live somewhere in America."

He looked sad now, he seemed to believe me. Maybe I'm not as bad a lier as I thought.

"Oh. Shame I don't remember them. How old was the Usamaro when it happened?" 

I was proud of myself for not wincing at the name. I was definitely stronger than that. Yukio noticed my discomfort though, and apologized.

"Sorry."

"It's ok. He was about five or six. He was excited to learn the kanji for his name."

Yukio looked at the picture I still held in my hands, and the name written across the top. He then looked at me, and his expression smoothed into his poker face.

"Interesting but, how come I never heard of him before, Rin? Surely we would've known if one of the girls in class lost her little brother and the care of her mother in a car crash. Even if you didn't say anything people gossip, Nii-San."

I sucked air in through my teeth. 

Damn four-eyed mole face. 

"She wasn't popular. Now just drop it, Yukio."

His frown never left his face, but he nodded and walked out the door to go to his smart guy thing. I hoped that be wouldn't tell anyone about this little scene, all I need right now is Suguro on my tail, litteraly, bullying me into telling him everything. Stubborn bastard. 

I carefully lifted Usamaro's drawing off of my lap where it had been resting, and gave it one last look before I put it back in my box with the other pictures.   
I grabbed my box, now with all it's contents, and proceeded to find a better hiding spot for it. The only way that Four-eyes could've found the drawing in the first place was if he had been rooting through my stuff. 

I looked at the clock, it was four twelve. Whatever time his class or whatever he was at started, he's not gonna be back for a while. I have time to find a better hiding spot. 

It might've been better to just tell Yukio about Usamaro, but if I'm honest, it'll never happen unless it's forced out of me. 

I suppose I'm the stubborn bastard.

 

But it's better this way.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this was bad and short, I just felt like making it at like two in the morning.


End file.
